


can't call it love

by FaultyParagon



Series: Laws of Attraction-Verse Fics [10]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Heartache, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Nightmares, Pyrrha Nikos-centric, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Volume 2 (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 18:22:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20493227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaultyParagon/pseuds/FaultyParagon
Summary: Pyrrha always knows when Jaune's suffering. She tries to ease his worries. No one's there to fix her heartbreak, though.You do NOT need to have read 'Laws of Attraction' in order to read this fic.





	can't call it love

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in late Volume 2, after the dance.

can't call it love

Sometimes, she didn't know why she tried.

For the twelfth night in a row, Pyrrha awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of grumbling and low whimpering. Blinking the sleep away automatically, she reached out to her nightstand. On her Scroll, she could read the time- 2 AM. Still an ungodly hour to be up and about. She had to be functioning for their 8 AM lecture that day, but she had no choice but to get up.

She slipped out from under her bedsheets as silently as possible, padding over to kneel beside the bed on her left, the source of the sound.

Even in the dark, her hands knew where to go. Reaching up, she felt matted bangs, and she swept them away from a furrowed brow. She pulled down the heavy duvet slightly, allowing the sleeping, tossing boy some freedom, some air. She ran tender fingers down his cheeks, feeling beads of sweat rolling down his skin, feeling his mouth move in formless, fearful whispers.

Jaune's dreams had been troubling him as of late. She didn't know why it had started- he didn't show any difference during the day, just as goofy and welcoming as always. And yet, each night, the blond had been haunted by some awful nightmares. The first night, she had started awake as she heard his panicked voice cut through her own dreams. She had almost cried, listening to him weep silently- but now, she was used to it. She knew how to help calm him.

It still hurt, though. His breathy cries of despair were enough to wrench her heart to pieces, tearing away any mask of calm she could normally wear upon her face.

But it was dark. No one could see her heartbreak in the darkness.

So, with a tender hand, she cupped his cheek, brushing the skin tenderly. She could feel his light stubble prickling against her palm, but she didn't mind it. Instead, she pressed her other hand on the top of his head, stroking his hair gently. "You're okay, Jaune," she breathed into his ear.

At the sound of her voice, Jaune's entire body visibly stilled, then relaxed, the murmurs quieting after a moment. She continued her ministrations, laying her own cheek awkwardly against the edge of his mattress. As her eyes adjusted to the shadow-filled room, she could see the rise and fall of his chest slow down, growing more even, more steady.

Suddenly, the blond shifted, and she pulled her hands away, ducking out of his potential line of sight as he rolled over to face her. When he didn't stir further, though, she poked her head back up, relaxing. His eyes remained closed, but his breathing had become more peaceful, so she simply rested an arm on the side of the bed, laying her cheek upon it.

He was so sweet. If there was anything she could do to take away his suffering, to ease his anxieties and allow him to sleep peacefully again, _god _how she'd do it in a heartbeat. But she was too scared to bring it up with him- he'd reacted so poorly during their first semester when she had tried to help him, and although she knew that he'd opened up to her, and that he was more than happy to share his concerns with her now, she couldn't bear to think that he'd turn away from her again.

With a heavy sigh, she laid a hand upon his upturned cheek again. He wasn't sleep-talking anymore. He was at peace. "Sleep well, Jaune," she whispered tenderly.

_I wish you knew how much I cared._

And then, Jaune's hand reached up and covered hers, and in his sleep, he nuzzled into her palm and smiled.

She almost gagged, the sob which ripped its way silently out of her mouth almost too much to bear. She swallowed down the sound, pressing her lips together, holding her breath until the shuddering of her chest and heart subsided. Then, she pulled her hand away from his as carefully as she could, then walked back into her own bed.

With a trembling hand, she checked the time. 3 AM. Their alarms would go off in a few hours.

Judging by the tears rolling down her cheeks, though, fat and heavy, laden with all of the self-hatred and loneliness and _heartbreak _suffocating her… she wouldn't be sleeping very well for the rest of the night.

_As long as Jaune's okay. _She let out an exhausted sigh between hiccupping tears. Night 12 was done, but Night 13 would find a new way to break her heart.

She sobbed into her pillow quietly until she fell asleep, muffling her cries. No one heard.

No one soothed her until she fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
